Dark
by erica1531
Summary: Dark is versatile. TonyMichelle.


Her head falls onto his chest, and his hands reflexively pull her closer. She drapes an arm across him, and his fingers brush the soft skin with something that might be akin to reverence. Sleepily, she murmurs something pleasant and lets the warm, velvety darkness wrap around her. Before he joins her under the soft, black blanket of sleep, he tucks his head into hers so that his temple rests on the crown of her head. Warm body encompasses warm body, and they are happy.

Her head falls onto the pillow, and tears trickle from her eyes to the soft fabric. She rolls onto her tummy and longs for his warmth, longs for him. She digs her nails into her arm just to feel something, and wishes that sleep could come. Then she thinks about it, and she can no longer hold it inside her. Sobs wrack her body, but silence fills the room. Not more than an hour after she finally cries herself to sleep, her cell phone rings. She rises into the cold darkness of the room and dresses for work.

Her head falls into his shoulder, and he pulls her against him as tight as he possibly can. They are afraid that if contact breaks, it will never be made again. Their lips fuse and they desperately soak each other in. There are harsh fluorescent lights, but it's still dark and they are afraid of the dark. They cannot see ahead, and what's behind is obscured. Lost, they cling. They are together again, but they are scared.

Her head falls onto the mattress as he rolls her over and pounds into her. They are tearing at each other, consumed by pent-up passion and rage. She wrestles her way back on top and she clenches around him angrily, and hands tear at flesh. This is not an act of love; it is a fiery act of release. That makes her scared, and so she thrusts even harder and kisses him harder and clenches him tighter; it makes him desperate for something he cannot name, and he is as rough as she, and they are angry. A different kind of darkness fills the room now, a kind of darkness that fends of all that is light and happy. Tangled together, they are terribly alone.

Her head falls onto nothing, because she is too close to the edge of the bed. She pulls herself back onto it, back onto her side. An empty foot away, he sleeps on his side. She curls up under the blanket, facing the wall, and leaving the space between them. Those inches between them are a dark abyss that threatens to encompass her if she moves too close to it. He wants to keep her away from him, and so he draws back to widen the gap. She's cold, but she doesn't move closer to him for warmth.

Her head falls onto the headboard, and she curses under her breath before she adjusts her position. She doesn't know why the bed is so big; why there is so much emptiness on either side of her. She wants to go to him, but she just can't. She just can't. She's alone in those rooms, and the inky night seeps through the walls and into her. That dark fills her up so that she can stand and make it through another day, but at night it just make her sink. Alone, she sinks.

Her head falls into his neck and fills the gap there. She presses herself close to him, the real him. Unable to wait, she drags him into an empty room, reprograms the lock, and pulls him into her. He kisses every inch of her skin, and she feverishly brushes her lips wherever she can, but they don't have much time and she just needs to feel him inside of her again, and she knows for the first time in a long time that there _is_ something inside of her. He melts with relief to feel her around him; finally, there is something good and substantial surrounding him. She wonders how it was possible that she ever thought she could live without this, and realizes that she never did. The darkness in the room builds their passion to a crescendo and gives them themselves, alone together. They feel each other, and they can finally feel life.

Her head falls onto his chest, and his hands reflexively pull her closer. She drapes an arm across him, and his fingers brush the soft skin with something that might be akin to reverence. Sleepily, she murmurs something pleasant and lets the warm, velvety darkness wrap around her. Before he joins her under the soft, black blanket of sleep, he tucks his head into hers so that his temple rests on the crown of her head. Warm body encompasses warm body, and they are happy.


End file.
